In Mind's Eye
by princessozmaofoz
Summary: Hathaway thinks some rather creative ways for Innocent to use his neckties.Warning for: sexual content and mild BDSM.


_Author's Note and Disclaimer: So this is actually my first ever smutfic, and I'm more than a little self-conscious of the fact. I can't promise it'll be any good, but the fic sort of refused to leave me alone until I wrote it down. And I thought I might as well share it anyway since this ship seems to be coming into vogue. Also, I don't own Lewis._

In Mind's Eye

"Are you sure you want to do this?" James Hathaway asked, lifting his head from the pillow for a moment to stare at his companion.

Jean Innocent finished knotting his wrist and returned his gaze. "Need I remind you that this was _your _idea?"

"I know but…" He coughed slightly. "Yes. Well, that was …before."

Before he'd known that she was planning to wear thigh-high fishnets and a silky purple slip that only just barely skimmed the tops of her legs.

Before she'd tantalizingly slowly removed his shirt and run her fingers all the way down his torso.

Before she'd decided that the best way to bind his hands to the bedposts involved bringing her cleavage mere centimetres away from his face.

Jean must have perceived his sharp intake of breath as an indication of nervousness rather than just extreme impatience and arousal, for she ran a finger slowly across his lips and promised to be gentle with him.

"Not _too_ gentle; I hope," James replied, snaking his sole unbound hand around her hips.

She grabbed his hand from her and pinned it to the pillow, a positively wicked smile on her face. "You're going to regret saying that."

Now, he _was _nervous "I…er…yeah…perhaps, you're right. One new thing at a time. Go easy on me for now."

She playfully raised an eyebrow. "And next time?"

"Next time, you can do _whateve_r you want with me."

She leaned over to kiss him, and just after he'd opened his mouth to her, she pulled away.

"Minx."

"I take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't meant as one."

She started positioning his other hand on the bedpost. "Yes, it was. You like me like this, and don't think I don't know it!"

He grudgingly admitted to himself that she was right and changed the subject. "Which tie are you using?"

"That revolting floral one. The only reason I haven't burned the ghastly thing yet is because I was saving it just for this."

"As touched as I am that you haven't wilfully damaged my personal property, I'm surprised you didn't use a solid dark blue one. It's longer and thicker, not mention that it would coordinate far better with the purple striped."

He flinched a little in spite of himself as she tied the knot much tighter than he'd been expecting. It seemed there would be no escaping out of this one, though he reckoned he might be able to free himself from the other knot if this got to be more than he could stand.

"I'm currently on top of you with barely any clothing on, and you want to talk about _colour coordination?_ No wonder half the station thinks you're shagging Robbie."

"I thought it would better appeal to your own aesthetic sensibilities," he teased. "Though if you rather I went off and shagged Robbie, all you have to do is ask. I very much doubt he would a lover unsatisfied for so long."

"Yes, he would. Don't forget, he left Laura waiting for at least _eight_ years."

" I waited for you almost as long," he reminded her, scowling as she tightened the bond on his other arm and thereby rendering his planned escape far more difficult. "And yet, you still keep me waiting. Sometimes I really do wonder if it was worth all the hassle..."

Jean sighed in disgust. "Do you want me to gag you as well?"

"No, I'll promise I'll be good from now on."

"Not _too _good; I hope_," _she remarked as she started tying the blindfold over his eyes.

He grinned. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"There. Now we're all ready," Jean said, as she settled herself back into position.

James peered through the dismayingly thin gap between the bottom of his eyes and the black fabric. Why did she have to be so damned good at tying knots?

" Ready? Hardly," he grumbled, half-under his breath.

"Oh?"

" Well for one thing, my trousers are still on."

"That's right." Though he couldn't see her face, he could almost hear the smirk in it anyway.

"Well..er…don't you think you think we should…should do something about that?"

"Don't rush me, James. Good things come to those who wait. And if I hear another word of complaint from you, I _will_ gag you."

He opened his mouth to protest but soon became so distracted by the movement of her hips that he could only manage a faint "yes, ma'am." And then another, decisively louder and more emphatic. And he might very well have continued on doing just that, if Jean had not threatened him yet again with a gag.

One of the first things that had come out of the change in the nature of their relationship was Jean's desire to keep the personal and professional aspects of it completely separate. He also wondered if she suspected that at least part of the attraction stemmed from the unequal power balance in their professional relationship.

Well, she needn't have had any concerns on that front. Though the dynamics of their work relationship had contributed toward a few of his more vivid fantasies—including the one that inspired this particular instance—he had always been able to distinguish between the admiration he felt for "Chief Superintendent Innocent," and the passion he felt for "Jean."

Though, he did still occasionally call her "ma'am" every so often when they were off-duty, primarily because he loved winding her up. Aggravation seemed to provoke one of two reactions in her, both of which he found rather attractive. Casual annoyance resulted in considerable adorableness in the form of rolled eyes, gently furrowed brows, and frustrated sighs. Whereas her real genuine fury was in equal parts terrifying and aphrodisiacal.

Not that he had any trouble channelling the necessary passion where she was concerned. If anything, his body was a little _too _responsive to her.

Though he still cursed himself for suggesting the bonds and blindfold, he had to admit that latter at least had had some benefits after all. Just as he'd so often heard, impairing one sense heightened his others.

The ghost of her lips on his neck seared his skin like a brand. Her breaths re-echoed in his ears, the varying frequency and occasional shallowness of them alerting to the fact that she was also tending to herself in addition to him. The perfume which moments ago he could only just barely perceive, now sent him into a somewhat dazed state, contemplating whether something that felt and smelled that bloody fantastic could truly be real after all.

The only thing that was missing was the ability to see her, leaving his memory and imagination to work overtime in order to compensate. Her beautiful eyes were probably right now looking down on him, her dark dilated pupils intensifying the green in her hazel irises. Her fantastic legs, intertwined with his own, were still covered in those damned stockings, and for a moment, he imagined himself free from his bonds and ever-so slowly peeling those very stockings off with his teeth, running his lips over the soft, smooth skin of her bared thighs.

He suddenly snapped out of his reverie when he realized he could no longer feel her weight on him. He almost cried out in anger, but then remembered her threat about the stupid gag and kept quiet. Where the hell was she, and why had she left him in this state? Surely, even she was not _that _much of a bloody tease. Or was she? Had this whole bonds-and-blindfold caused the power to go to her head and made her want to leave him hear suffering?

He couldn't even tend to himself, as his hands were still- quite literally—tied, and his stupid trousers were still on. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep them dry much longer. The way she was going, she'd soon finish him before she'd even properly touched him below the waist.

Though her absence felt an eternity in his highly sensitive state, she actually returned to bed less than two minutes later. And to his immense relief, she'd actually made some considerable improvements during her absence. He could no longer feel the silky fabric of her slip separating his naked torso from her own bare skin.

Unfortunately, he could still feel those damned fishnet stockings against his bare toes. It made him fantasize all the harder about being free enough to remove them.

Seeing his clear distress, she then took pity on his sorry state and found an even better way to reward him for his patience. After she'd repositioned herself slightly, she took hold of his still-blindfolded head and guided it to her now-bared chest. Blindly, he inched his nose around, navigating the soft curves he could not physically see. Once he'd finally finished orienting himself to the surroundings, he took a nipple between his lips.

Only to have her push him away yet again.

This was the final straw for him, and he let out a strained "please."

"What was that?" she asked with interest.

He repeated his plea, louder this time. "Just… I…I surrender or…or whatever. I just…I can't. Just…please…please…let me… I need…"

She didn't respond, and for a moment, he feared that she actually was_ that_ cruel.

And then, he felt first his trousers and then his underwear being slid down tortuously slowly. Her fingers started meticulously creeping first across his thighs and then down to his legs, all the while intentionally neglecting the place where he most needed to be touched. He opened his mouth to complain but then closed it, suspecting that doing so would cause her to remove her hands permanently.

His compliance earned him an unexpected reward, and he felt the bonds on his hands loosen. His hands free, he instinctively reached for the blindfold.

"Leave it." Her voice was back to its most authoritative tone, one that was in equal measures intimidating and sensual.

A little taken aback, he nonetheless complied with her order, leaving the blindfold on and letting his fingers roam the small of her back before sliding down to her hips. She attempted to conceal a squeal when he mischievously pinched her bum.

She retaliated by grabbing him by the shoulders and playfully shoving him against the pillows. "Lest you forget who is the one in charge."

As she reached down and started stroking him, he just barely managed another "yes, ma'am" in response.

Though he was barely able to think straight due to the pleasure her touch brought, he had just enough presence of mind to feel around between her legs until he found his objective. She was already fairly damp, due—he suspected—to earlier self-ministrations and the surprising-but-obvious turn-on this whole experience was for her.

She soon found herself so distracted by his touch that she abandoned her own attempts to pleasure him.

Just when she was at her most responsive, he abruptly halted his rhythm and pulled his fingers away. Now that their positions had been reversed and he was the one making her cry out in spite of herself, he was hoping that he might be able to make her beg to resume as she had made him beg. It was only fair after all.

But she didn't beg, didn't ask him why he'd stopped, didn't give any real indication that he'd done anything to her.

Instead, she just rested there, completely still and silent on top of him. He couldn't see through the blindfold, but he had a feeling she was staring him down, waiting for him to be the one who was begging to be satisfied properly. And he knew that as things currently stood, his body was in no real position to resist any longer.

"_Jean_ …" Under other circumstances, he might have been ashamed of the profound neediness in his voice, but right now, he couldn't have cared less, just so long as he did not have to wait much longer to be satisfied.

And then, then _finally_, she lowered herself properly onto him. As she set a steady, satisfying pace, he reached up, slowly feeling his way up her naked torso until he found her breasts. He tweaked her nipples a few times until he felt them harden, and then began rigorously massaging first one breast and then the other.

After awhile, her skin grew warmer under his fingertips, and he realized he would not need to hold himself back much longer. Not entirely sure why he was doing so given the blindfold, he closed his eyes as he stilled inside her. She gave in not long afterwards before collapsing onto his chest.

They lay there for a minute, his hands running up and down her back. Then, he gently rolled them over so that he was the one leaning over her. James finally removed the blindfold and glanced down at the undeniably lovely sight of Jean—hair slightly tousled, skin still flushed with colour, eyes-all-but-sparkling. They smiled at each other slightly bashfully, unsure of whether or not they should be embarrassed at how much each had enjoyed this particular "experiment" in love-making. Then, they started to giggle like mischievous schoolchildren, only stopping when their lips met almost-by-accident.

When they came up for air, he stroked her nose affectionately.

She gave her best imitation of a scowl. "What was that for?"

"Have I ever told you just how remarkable you are?"

"You know, I'm not sure you have. Would you mind showing me?"

"Gladly." He started nuzzling her neck. "It makes me almost forgive you for constantly stealing the bedcovers," he muttered into her throat.


End file.
